Three Hour Intervals
by Emmy1512
Summary: Every day, every three hours, without fail. "Coffee, Carter?"
1. 0630

**_Authors Note:_** **A story I started over coffee this morning (what can I say, inspiration always helps). I don't actually know how far this will go. I've got one small chapter, and a slightly longer one already written. It's T for now, because I expect *some* slightly more adult situations. I'll change that rating and give a warning in an authors note if *that* is about to happen. And on that note, I hope you enjoy.**

 **0630**

She didn't suppose either of them really knew when it started, but it was something she'd begun to anticipate in her day. It didn't matter what time she started her day, the intervals started exactly half an hour after her arrival. Today was no exception. In fact, the only exception she'd found so far, was if for some reason weren't on base, or off world together.

"Coffee, Carter?"

She risked a glance at her watch, and couldn't hide the grin that graced her lips.

It was that grin that made O'Neill do this, everyday.

She gave herself a little time to wipe the smile by holding out her hand to grab the coffee without looking away from the report Dr. Lee had provided her as she stepped into her lab this morning.

"Mm, thanks." She finally looked up to see him perched upon a stool across the bench from her, watching her intently.

"You look like crap, Carter."

She raised an eyebrow at him before glancing in a small mirror to her right. She did look somewhat bedraggled. She hadn't slept well, she'd washed her hair before bed, and there was no coffee in her house this morning... though the last wasn't something new. She'd stopped having coffee at home a while ago. This morning she could've used one though.

"Thanks, Sir." Her reply was flat, and full of insubordination covered by a "sir". He translated her words to "Screw you, Sir." He simply laughs it off and takes another sip of his own coffee.

"Big plans for today?" He's only making small talk and they both knew it. He was aware of her schedule before she was. They weren't scheduled for any off-world missions, and thus far, no drastic, world changing...

 ** _Sirens blared, followed by Walter's urgent voice. "Major Carter to the control room, repeat, Major Carter to the control room"._**

Carter laughed and looked at her CO.

"Did you plan that one?" she said as she picked up her coffee cup and headed out of her lab in front of him.

"You know me, Carter..."

She did, she knew him well enough to know he was pretty good at executing perfect timing. She also knew from the look of disappointment on his face when the sirens blared that this wasn't his doing.


	2. 0925

**_AN:_** **So there will be longer chapters in the future. Bear with me. Oh, and I have some more written so the next few updates should be relatively soon. ("Actually Ma'am it's all relative, I'm sure Carter could explain it better if we had more time.")**

 **0925**

A while ago, a few weeks after their three hour intervals had begun, Sam had begun setting an alarm on her watch for 5 minutes before he was due to show up. The exact time changed daily, and so setting her watch was part of her routine now. Originally it had been to ensure he didn't startle her. She didn't like being startled in front of her CO... no, that's a lie. She didn't like being startled in front of Jack.

So when her watch started beeping incessantly at her at 0925, she quickly pressed a button on the side, before turning her attention halfheartedly to the gate diagnostics. The only problem with her preparation... the next five minutes felt like hours.


	3. 0930

**AN: Apparently this decided to post itself in jibberish before. Hopefully this works, sorry about that.**

 **0930**

He'd walked to the entrance of the control room exactly as his watch flicked over to 0930. He wasn't really sure what had started his routine, but he didn't even need his watch to tell him what three hours away from her felt like. Not anymore.

He'd seen her tense when he entered the room, even with her back to him, a small part of him wanted to believe it was his presence that made her react like that. He wasn't sure if it was a good tense, but if it was because she sensed him before she saw him, he'll take it either way.

"Coffee, Carter?"

She swung her chair around to face him. As always, he had two cups of coffee in his hand, and without a word she took the one in his left hand. He always held hers in the left... she wondered briefly why she knew this before pushing the thought away to the "too complicated" corner of her brain. If she was being completely honest, all aspects of this little tradition should be pushed to the "too complicated" filing cabinet.

"Too complicated?" he asked, nonchalantly. Her breath hitched, he couldn't have known what she was thinking? It took her a moment before she noticed his hand motioning toward the computer screen, showing the running gate diagnostic.

"Oh..." she faltered. She never faltered. _Shit._

"That's what I thought." This time he looked her in the eye, and there could be no doubt he was now talking about them... or the lack thereof.

"It's not too bad, Sir." She turned her attention back to the screen. "Earlier when SG-4 returned from a routine mission, exploring some runes of an ancient civilization that could've been from one of the four races we learnt about when we found Ernest... you remember the Furlings?" she paused and looked at him. He nodded and waved his coffee laden hand, motioning her to go on.

"Well, anyway, they arrived safely, but just after they exited the gate, the wormhole seemed to be destabilising. I can't see anything wrong on our end, thus far. I'll have to wait for this to finish before being sure."

Jack sighed. As quickly as she'd faltered, she'd brushed herself off and stepped back to the Colonel-Major routine.

"So was it the elusive Furling after all?"

"No, sir."

The line they walked was thin. In fact, it was a lot more like a tightrope, suspended a hundred feet in the air. They both wobbled, from time to time, though neither of them had lost their footing yet. _Maybe,_ Jack reasoned to himself, _this coffee thing is the equivalent of holding my arms out for balance._

 **AN: So... what do you think?**


	4. 1230

**1230**

Jack had entered the commissary five minutes before she did. At exactly 1230 she walked through the door and sat down at a table with Teal'c and Daniel, who were debating specifics. He liked this, if they were on world, even if she wasn't hungry, she'd come to the commissary at the three hour interval closest to lunch. It was an accident, the first time, at least he thought so. Now he saw it as her participatory action in their little game. As he stirred sugar in their respective amount in their respective cups, and walked over to the table, sitting next to Teal'c, across from Carter.

"Coffee, Carter?" he handed it to her without awaiting any sort of reply.

"O'Neill," Teal'c started. "Is the giving of caffeinated beverages common place on this world?"

Carters face burned as she looked directly into the still swirling coffee. _Kinda like a wormhole_.

"Indeed it is Teal'c. That said, some people enjoy coffee more than others..."

Carter wanted to hit him, she wasn't even looking and she could hear the smirk that graced his lips.

Daniel darted a glance between Teal'c and O'Neill, before looking at a suspiciously quiet Carter. He decided someone had probably better break the ice before Carter figured out a way to shrink herself so small no one could ever question her coffee habits.

"Teal'c, do you remember when I took you the zoo, and offered to buy ice cream?"

Teal'c nodded his affirmative to recalling the memory. "Some people like coffee more than ice cream." Daniel concluded, lamely.

"We are not in a zoo, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c curtly stated.

"Ah, but we are." Jack laughed and the topic was changed to the resemblance of a military base to a zoo, and all thoughts of their little coffee charade fell from the minds of those around the table.

Fifteen minutes later, and Daniel looked at his watch. "We'll be late for the briefing!" he exclaimed.

Sam glanced at her watch to double check. "Ah, Daniel, that's still fifteen minutes away." She was too late; he'd already run out of the commissary in a panic. Jack rolled his eyes knowingly at Sam, and she simply shook her head. _Typical Daniel._

Teal'c, Carter, and O'Neill spent the next five minutes musing over Daniel's abnormal inability to be consistently on time, or late. Normally people are either or. Daniel on the other hand was very much dependent on mood. If he was feeling antsy or uncomfortable, he was early. However if he was content of engaged with work, he'd rush in five minutes late with an expression that said 'Oh god, I totally forgot.'

Neither O'Neill nor Carter was surprised though when Teal'c rose five minutes after Daniels departure. He nodded curtly and walked silently from the table. He tended to be seated for meetings before most parties arrived.

The two sat quietly, finishing lunch. Well, Jack finished lunch, Sam finished coffee. Neither said anything until it was time to leave.

"So Carter, do you like coffee?"

She couldn't help but beam a smile as she replied. "More than some."

She heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like "cheeky" as she walked away.

Carter visited her lab to grab a couple of files pertinent to the briefings agenda. O'Neill had gone ahead to join the rest of the team in the briefing room. On her way out, files in one arm, the phone rang. She grabbed it in a rush.

"Carter."

"Couldn't wait two minutes, sir?" she quipped. She could almost imagine the corner of his lips forming a poorly suppressed smile.

"Alas, longer I fear. Briefing is postponed. Something to do with the president being more important than us. 1500."

"I see. Well I guess I'll just stay put. See you later, sir."

"Indeed."

The phone hung up, and Sam looked around her lab. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had nothing to do.

 **AN : Ah but how much longer can the keep up the charade?! Reviews are nice. x**


	5. 1530

**1530**

SG-1 along with General Hammond had been positioned around the large conference table in the briefing room for the last twenty or so minutes.

"Major Carter, as far as I'm concerned, this mission is a go. When do you think the gate will be fully operational?"

"Well, General. The problem itself is in one of the capacitors that regulates the energy the gate receives. Siler has a team working on the issue now; they expect to be done by tomorrow morning."

Nodding, General Hammond accepted her reply. "In that case, I think you're all in need of a day off. Take tomorrow as a personal day, and I'll schedule this mission for 0900 hours, Thurs-" The General was cut off by a beeping that filled the room. They all looked around briefly before laying eyes on Major Carter, who was blushing and fumbling to silence her watch.

The Generals eyes narrowed. "Somewhere to be, Major?" his voice said he wasn't angry by the interruption, for which Carter was glad.

"Ah, no, Sir. Just a phone call to make."

"Very well then, you're all dismissed. 0900 Thursday."

The team shuffled their files together, Daniel and Teal'c left the room first. O'Neill had lingered just a moment longer. "You know Carter, those things do have a silent setting, you know. It just flashes instead." He grinned as she blushed at him.

Deciding to throw her a bone, he glanced at his watch. 1528. It was a bit early, but it would do. He caught her eye. "What do you say?"

She decided she'd play coy for a bit. Maybe try to regain a bit of control. "What do I say to what, sir?"

He rolled his eyes at her, not willing to indulge. "To putting it on silent." He gauged her response, by the exasperated look on her face and he thought it potentially mean to tease her longer. "Coffee, Carter?"

"Commissary?" She suggested.

He hummed for a moment. "We could, but you heard the General. We need to get off base apparently."

This seemed to take her by surprise. "Oh, sir. I don't know. Coffee, off base... it seems a bit..." she didn't know how to finish her sentence, so she just didn't.

He winked at her. "Scandalous?" He didn't wait for her to reject his offer. He'd found it better to not let Carter over think the small thing. He knew she'd over thought the big things enough. The small things were his to cherish. He made his way to the exit, hearing her footsteps a few feet behind.

"Quite." She answered softly.

Carter paced herself two steps behind O'Neill as they traversed the corridors to the elevator. She took note of his stride, if she'd known better, she might have said there was a hop in his step. The corner of her mouth threatened to tug a smile, she'd seen this walk before, and she knew exactly how he was feeling. He was proud. _Of what?_ She wondering. She didn't have to time to expand on her thoughts, as the elevator doors slide open. The Colonel stepped in and turned around, quirking an eyebrow at her. She stood there and considered him for a moment.

 _Am I really going to get in this elevator? It's just coffee. Is it though?_

"Carter?"

Snapping out of it she stepped into the elevator O'Neill was holding open for her. He looked impatient and amused.

"I need to get my... things... if we're going to leave base, Sir."

"Mmm, yes Carter. It is most important for everyone to have their things."

She didn't laugh.

Clearing his throat, he straightened the front of his jacket and squared his shoulders.

The elevator doors opened once more. Holding his hand out, he motioned her to step out. "I believe this is your stop. Meet me up top in... oh say... 15 minutes?"

He let the elevators door slide shut again as she replied, "Ah... sure. 15. Got it."

As a general rule Jack O'Neill was not a patient man, so when 15 minutes came and went, it took everything he had to not go back down and drag her out. 5 more minutes of impatience, and finally he saw her emerge into the parking complex.

"So where are we going then?" Carter queried as she walked toward him.

"Hmm," he hadn't actually thought that far ahead. He wasn't even 100% sure he'd get her past the SGC threshold until he saw her walking toward him. "I know a small place about 5 minutes drive. Follow me?"

Sam followed O'Neill's truck, pensively tapping her finger as she subconsciously mirrored his every turn, deceleration and acceleration. One right turn and two lefts later, she found herself pulling into a park and turning off her ignition.

She'd stepped out of the car, locked up, and placed her keys in her bag before she looked up at the building in front of her. Flashing neon lights and darkened entrance...

"Ah, sir. This isn't a cafe." She said as though he wasn't already aware of the fact.

"They have coffee flavoured liqueur, if that helps."

She was hesitating, he could see it. She had a burning desire in her eyes, she _wanted_ to go in, she wanted to drink _with him_. She was throwing a fire blanket in her mind though, made from fibres of truth and lies, logic and reason.

"I can't, sir."

She fumbles in her bag, grabbing her keys and ripping them from her bag in such a hurry she dropped them on the cold, damp ground. "Damnit..." she hissed. She bent to pick them up, but O'Neill was faster, and had them in his hand, waggling them in front of her face.

"It's just coffee, Carter."

She looked at him like she wanted to scream. He watched her carefully, her fingers twitched and she subconsciously reached for her sidearm. He saw her glower even more at the realisation she was without her safety nets.

"Please give me my keys, sir." Her voice was meek, and her eyes pleading for him to just let her go. To not make it harder. He, however, felt so incredibly sick and tired of trying to make this easier. He didn't want it to just go away, he'd never wanted it to stay in the room, and he never wanted this to be just coffee.

Coffee had been almost enough. It would keep him going, even if she walked away now. They'd still have coffee.

"Give. Me. My. Keys."

He had to stifle a laugh, and she saw it in his eyes. She wasn't in the habit of having temper tantrums in front of CO's, but she had exceptions for every rule. She was a physicist after all. So when he shook her head, maintaining his cheeky facade of playful friend and 'it's just coffee', she felt herself snap.

"Jack O'Neill, give me my god damn keys, right now." His face fell, and she took his distraction as an opportunity to grab the keys from his teasing hand. Unlocking her car, she climbed in as steadily as possible. She grabbed the door handle, ready to pull it shut if only his hand wasn't placed where the door needed to shut.

"Sam... it's just..."

She glared at him, daring him to finish his sentence. He opted against it, not feeling particularly like being hit today.

"Sir, it was never _just_ coffee."

He dropped his hand from the door, deflated and defeated. He knew it was never _just_ coffee, but it was his way of saying to her that _just_ coffee was enough, even if he desperately wanted more. And so he didn't make any move to chase or follow as he watched her drive away, though he did see her hand swipe a tear away angrily before she pulled onto the road. He looked between her shrinking vehicle and the pub for a moment.

"Oh fuck it," he muttered to the wind before moving himself inside the dark, dingy, warm pub.

He flopped himself on the bar stool, and looked around for the bartender, who poked her face around the corner of a back office door.

"Jack!" She exclaimed happily. "I thought I saw your truck pull up. I thought I saw a lady with you too, for that matter." She looked him up and down before comprehension set in. "Oh." She stepped out of the office and grabbed a bottle of whisky and two glasses.

"Can I just drink alone, please?"

The lady chuckled. "Jack O'Neill, I have known you longer than you care to think about. You made me promise remember?"

He merely shrugged at her.

"I believe it went something like this...

 _'Marg, I know this will sound weird, and I can't really tell you why, but I need you to do me a favour. There will come a day when I walk in here and I need to be alone. Will you do that for me?'_  
' _Not a chance.'  
'Promise?'"_

She watched him recall the memories with her and saw him soften slightly.

"Yeah, I remember."

"So then, Jack O'Neill so mysterious and mighty. Why are we drinking today?"

One hour and two whiskeys later, Jack finished telling a compressed and very censored version of his years of knowing the brilliant Carter to Marg.

He stopped talking and poured himself another liberal glass, to which Marg's response was to remove the bottle. Her silent way of saying it was his last if he was going to drive.

"So..." she started as he took a gratuitous sip. "Was it ever just coffee?"

"At first, I suppose, it was just coffee for a couple of weeks. Then it became everything to me. I thought about it when I woke, brushing my teeth, hell, I'd started trying to arrive at base earlier than her just to make sure I could be on time."

Marg nodded knowingly. "And so, what exactly would be the worst thing to happen if it was more than just coffee."

 _We'd be split up._ He thought solemnly.

"Our team would be dismantled. She'd probably be reassigned. We could face charges for breaking regs..."

Marg eyed him suspiciously. "You do realise I know George too? You're not the only one to come here after a tough day of _"deep space telemetry"_. Marg may have been old, but she was certainly no fool. Of course, she didn't say anything to anyone, but she knew the cover story for what it was; a cover story. "Do you honestly think he'd press charges if something were to happen between you and your 2IC?"

Jack shrugged. "If something happened and it affected our work, definitely. He'd have to reassign one of us to another... department regardless."

"Different facility all together?"

Jack pondered for a moment. There were places Carter could work at the SGC where she wouldn't be under his command, but if she stayed on SG-1 and he left... "There's a chance we could both stay."

"And so... what the hell is stopping you?"

"Like I said Marg, it's important. Really damn important work."

She quirked eyebrow at him. "More important than her? Do you think that maybe that's why she's pissed? She knows you find your work more important than her."

Jack shook his head. "No, she knows why that's true."

"Well, maybe she's still angry because of the truth. It doesn't have to be false to hurt, Jack."

He took one more deep sip to find his glass had mysteriously emptied itself without him noticing. Marg had noticed though, and silently refused him another.

Jack slapped some cash on the counter between them.

"Can you honestly tell yourself that tomorrow you'll be able to go back to this _'just coffee'_ routine like nothing's ever happened?"

He frowned and picked up his keys. "I have to."

Marg was used to his abrupt departures. The moment there was no more alcohol; there were no more feelings to be shared. She simply placed his cash in the till and watched him walk forlornly to his truck.

"No you don't," she whispered to herself.

 **AN: Longer chapter! Told you they were coming. I hope you enjoyed and I'll be back with more. I'd say two, maybe three more chapters. Only so many hours in a day. )  
Reviews are nice. x**


	6. 1530 - again

**AN: sorry this took so long. I started writing something completely different to this chapter, I scrunched it up (alt-a) and chucked it in the trash (backspace) and started all over again. I'm still not happy with it but I needed something drastic enough to justify a couple of upcoming ideas :P**

* * *

 **1530 – again**

"Damn it!" Sam swore to herself as she drove through pelting rain to nowhere in particular. She wasn't so much angry at O'Neill as she was at herself. She prided herself on being composed, and she'd sworn to herself (and him for that matter) that they could leave it in the room and it'd be fine.

 _It'd be much easier if I could just hate him. I can work with hate._ She pondered as she blindly made a u-turn. A car horn sounded loudly behind her moments before she felt the impact. Tires screeched, and her head slammed forward into the steering wheel.

Sam must have blacked out for a moment, she blinked her eyes open. It was a blur of black and the lights of her dashboard. She used all her effort to sit back.

"Oh, fuck!" She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself as cold air filled her car. She saw a hand reach for the keys in the ignition and another warm hand on her shoulder and vaguely comprehend a voice.

"Ma'am..." the intruding voice came from her left. "Ma'am, are you okay?"

She took a moment, trying to register what her body was telling her.

"My... my head..." She brought a hand up and felt something warm and sticky against her hand. "Aww, man."

The hand moved to her free hand, limp on the seat. "Just stay put, we've got paramedics on the way."

It felt like hours before she heard the sound of sirens in the background. She'd managed to steady herself enough to try to step from the vehicle, and did as much to greet a paramedic rushing toward her.

"Hi there," the kind faced man said as he approached, giving her a quick once over with his eyes. He grabbed his pen and looked at her again. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Samantha Carter."

"Miss Carter, would you mind accompanying me to somewhere a little more dry so we can check you over?"

She nodded silently. As she put her full weight on the ground, an excruciating pain went up her right leg. Instantly, the paramedic was supporting her.

"Oh, and do you have an ID and emergency contact details on you?"

"Jack..." she whispered.

"Uh, sorry, what was that?"

"Wallet is in my bag," she pointed toward her car. "And emergency contact is under 'I.C.E.' in my phone."

She didn't realise he'd been guiding her toward the flashing van until she was sitting under bright lights, with another paramedic attaching a blood pressure cuff to her arm and a clip on her finger. "Looks like you're having a tough day, Ma'am." A female paramedic addressed her as she continued to watch the numbers on the screen drop and finally settle on one reading. She took note on the same clipboard her male counterpart had been using moments ago.

"All right, now look at me. This is going to be bright."

Sam had been through enough bumps and grazes to know what was coming, but it didn't stop her from wincing as a bright light invaded her sight, and pain in her head made itself prominent.

The paramedic frowned, but did the same with her other eye.

Sam tried to see what was being written, but couldn't turn her head properly. "Standard protocol here, Ma'am, but I need you to blow into this." An alcohol breath tester was held in front of her, and Sam obliged. It beeped when it had what it needed and Sam stopped blowing.

"Excellent, now... are you on any medications?"

"Birth control," she pointed to her upper arm and made clear a small protrusion that indicated she had an implant there.

"Implanon?"

Sam just nodded as she saw the paramedic scribble once more.

"Alright, and emergency contact details." As though he'd been summoned, the original paramedic arrived with Sam's handbag.

"She said they were listed under I.C.E."

The female paramedic smiled, and spoke honestly. "I love it when they do that!" Turning her attention back to Sam, "would you mind if I grab those details from your phone. Would you like someone to be contacted now?"

Sam just shrugged her shoulders and let her gaze wander through the open doors to see a male and a young boy being tended to. She gasped. "Oh god, are they okay?"

The female paramedic followed her gaze. "Oh they'll be just fine. They're both a bit shaken but won't need to be taken in... unlike you.

Sam groaned.

"Speaking of, we're done here. Mind laying back?" Sam obliged and lay on the stretcher and felt straps clipped over her torso, waist, and legs. The female paramedic called her details through to the hospital; she was gone for a few minutes before shuffling her way to the back to sit with Sam as they started to move.

"Well then, _Major_ Carter... we've been instructed take you to the Academy Hospital and your normal physician will meet you there." The paramedic frowned at the unusual request. She'd treated plenty of military personal in her time, but never had she been instructed to take a patient _directly_ to a USAF hospital. Sure, plenty of transfers after the fact, but this stood out as odd.

Carter on the other hand knew the USAF would have acted quickly. Of course they didn't want a public hospital running tests on her. Her blood work was probably nearly as classified as the Stargate program. Feeling more lucid by the time they arrived at the hospital and Sam felt absolutely ridiculous as they rolled her into the hospital. She could hear Janet's voice, reprimanding an intern. The familiar voice was a refreshing calm in the sea of chaos that had surrounded her past few hours. Without warning, the small doctor was upon her, concern in her eyes.

She waved the paramedics away after they passed her a copy of their observations. Janet flicked through them briefly before summoning an orderly to help her move Sam to a private room. She undid the straps and lifted the head of the bed so Sam could sit. Once inside the room, Janet closed the door and looked at Sam again.

"Care to tell me what the hell happened?" Janet knew Sam, she wasn't a careless driver, and from the report she'd received upon being called to the hospital indicated Sam was anything but careful.

"I didn't look... I just... It was raining; I was distracted, thinking about..." Sam hesitated. "Thinking."

Janet eyed her suspiciously, "right. Well, let me check you over. Head first." Janet prepared an antibacterial wash and cleaned enough blood to examine the gash on her forehead. "Well, that'll need stitches." She grabbed the penlight from her pocket and checked her pupil responses. "Left pupil slightly sluggish." She noted as such on her file. "Any other pains?"

Sam considered her body for the first time properly since the accident. "Uh, well my neck. I can't really turn my head properly. I get a pain that goes down my shoulders and back when I do. Also, my right ankle and wrist are pretty sore."

"Neck first. Sit up straight for me." Janet positioned herself behind Sam and placed her hands on either side of her neck. "Turn to the right and tell me when it hurts." Sam obliged and continued for left, up, and down. "Whiplash. Pretty nasty but not deadly."

Janet worked her way down the list of complaints until she came to her ankle. It was swollen, and Sam couldn't tighten her toes enough to satisfy Janet. She ordered an x-ray for her ankle and a scan for her head. Janet sat with Sam while they waited for the equipment to be free; Janet took the time to stitch Sam up.

"Sam..."

"Janet, don't."

"Don't?" Janet looked like she was going to explode. "Are you freaking kidding me Samantha? You could've died. Don't even think about rolling your eyes. You know I'm right. No alcohol in your system, you claim to have been awake at the time. So you were distracted. What on earth is _that_ distracting?"

A knock on the door.  
 _My saving grace!_ Sam regretted her thought the moment she saw jeans and a leather jacket enter the room.

"Hey doc, she alright?" Jack asked casually.

Janet glared between the Colonel and Major. She should've known. She thought they'd been handling it better. There'd only been a couple of other times that Janet had observed her friend being 'dangerously distracted'. Both of those times, she'd deduced to be 'Colonel problems'. Neither time had put anyone's life at risk, but they had concerned Janet. She'd even talked to General Hammond about it. Even he'd seen it, but had faith that they'd keep their promise not to let it interfere with their professional duties, that they wouldn't risk their careers, or the greater good of the galaxy they were fighting to save. They'd kept their promise too. No one had doubt in that.

She supposed, though, that perhaps no one had considered the consequences of not letting them break regulations.

"I'm still trying to figure that out, Colonel." She answered him curtly, in a tone that clearly said 'why don't you tell me?'

"Just a concussion, sir. Nothing to worry about." The three parties in the room knew that Sam was trying to get O'Neill to leave, fruitless as her efforts had always been.

Janet decided not to punish the pair more than she had. "We'll know more soon, we should be heading to do a couple of x-rays and a CT. She's right, probably just a concussion. It's the ankle I'm more worried about."

"Carter, what you wanna go and get your ankle hurt for? We have a mission day after tomorrow."

Janet intervened. "Had. You had a mission. I already told General Hammond that you weren't going to be mission ready." She directed her statement toward Sam.

"Why are you so efficient?" Jack whinged, though he knew his hopes for a quick return to normality were dashed the moment he got called to the hospital. As he spoke, an unfamiliar face had poked around the door and nodded at Janet.

"They're ready for us now, Sam. Colonel," she tipped her head toward the door, motioning for him to get out.

"Right. Well, I'll be around." Janet knew to take this as 'let me know when I can come back'.

Janet pottered around for a moment as the Colonel departed, silently removing the Majors dog tags and placing them on a table next to the bed. "They're bringing in a wheelchair for you. Do you feel alright to move yourself into it?" Carter nodded, and unsteadily moved her legs off the side of the bed. The door opened and a nurse wheeled in the promised chair. "Thanks, I've got it from here."

Janet had a way of dismissing people without actually doing so, an ability that helped her assert the authority required to keep her patients and subordinate medical officers in check. However, as quickly as she'd donned the authority, she removed it to become a friend as they made their way up the maze of corridors.

"Sam, I know we don't have a problem as far as regs go. But..." she paused to choose her words carefully. "Do you have a problem, Sam? Because we can talk, and I promise you... as far as I can... that it stays between you and I." It was a plea to talk to her as a friend, with a firm reminder Janet could, and would, report any direct violation of regulations. Sam almost felt like smiling, she admired Janet's fierce loyalty, along with her incredible sense of duty.

"Maybe, later." Janet knew it was as much as she'd get for now, and decided to drop the subject as they pushed through the doors into Radiology.

A series of x-rays, and a CT scan later, Carter found herself back in the room enjoy her first piece of food since she'd arrived. It was approaching 1800 when Janet let herself into the room and sat on the end of Sam's bed.

"I've reviewed your scans. Minor intracranial swelling, no haemorrhaging though. Your leg, on the other hand... a small fracture in your tibia, just above your ankle."

Carter grimaced. "Cast?"

Janet considered for a moment. "I think the boot would be better. You'll still be on crutches for a while, but at least you'll have some mobility." Sam nodded and Janet sat in silence for a few moments as she observed her friend. "Talk to me, Sam. Please."

"I honestly don't know what you want me to say, Janet."

"I'd like to know how you're handling everything. That'd be a start."

"I'm doing fine, I mean, work can be a bit tough but we're chosen for this job for a good reason. We can deal with it."

Janet sighed at Sam's deflection of the conversation, but was determined not to let her have the upper hand. "I meant regarding Colonel O'Neill and the Za'tarc incident. How've you been since then?"

"That was months ago."

"Does that make my query any less valid?"

"I'm _fine_." Sam could see her emphasis wasn't fooling the doctor and resigned herself to telling some half-truths. "For the most part. I suppose I'd expected it to get easier faster. Crushes go away, you know?"

"And it's not? Going away that is."

Sam frowned. "Janet, if you're asking if we've acted on it... we haven't."

"I know that, I'm not an idiot and nor are you. At this point I'm more worried about what _not_ acting on it is doing to you. Heartbreak isn't easy, especially when love hasn't had a chance to take its course." Janet paused, gauging Sam's reaction to her words. Her expression was blank, but her eyes filled with a deep sadness. "The point is that you're obviously sad, which is understandable. I doubt you're alone in your emotion. My question is can you deal with it?"

Sam declined to answer, which was really enough of an answer in itself.

Meanwhile, Jack had paced laps around the hospital grounds, been kicked from areas he apparently wasn't allowed by a couple of overly aggressive nurses, and found himself in the cafeteria, flicking through a magazine left on the table.

He looked at his watch; its backlight screen read 1815. "Screw it," he muttered to himself. Disobeying the doc's indirect order to stay away was never a great idea, but then again, Jack had never been very good at obeying orders. He absentmindedly made his way to the coffee machine in the hall, threw in a couple of coins and pressed the button to make the machine hum out his coffee. He picked the scalding cup out of the machine, before automatically entering coins for a second. He pressed decaf and waited, tapping his well trimmed nails against the flimsy plastic of the machine. He picked up the second coffee and traversed the small distance to her room.

He looked through the window in the door and saw Janet sitting on the bed, looking frustrated at Carter.

He steeled himself and knocked once loudly.

* * *

 **AN - BUT CAN SHE DEAL WITH IT? CAN THEY?  
Check out that chapter length.  
** **Reviews are nice x**


	7. 1830

**AN: There's been a couple issues with the formatting of this chapter with the doc manager. Let me know if anything is strange and I'll fix it up. xx**

 **1830**

He waited for Janet to stand and touch Carter's hand gently and say something that made Carter give a smile. It didn't fool O'Neill though. Carter had a lot of different smiles, but this was one she gave when she felt defeated. Janet walked over and opened the door, looked at the two coffees in his hands and shook her head. "No caffeine for her Colonel."

He smirked. "I know. This one is decaf," he retorted, holding up his left hand slightly. Janet looked displeased but relented and allowed him to enter.

"I'll be back soon, Sam. We'll fit your boot and look at discharging you later tonight. You can't be alone though; you're welcome to accompany me back to the base." She looked between the Colonel and Major and made way to leave. "Regardless, we'll discuss it soon." The door glided shut behind her and left Jack and Sam staring at each other, anger and sadness radiating between them.

"Carter..." He didn't know what to say though, and stopped there.

"I don't like decaf." Her words were flat as though they said 'you should know that'.

"I'm aware. It's... more of a peace offering."

"There's no need for that, Sir." She _needed_ him to leave, yet couldn't muster the words to make him do so. She sat there, silently begging him. He could see it in her eyes, the despair and frustration almost enough to make him turn and leave her be. Stubborn as each other though, he pulled a chair to the side of her bed and handed her the cup.

She cradled it in both hands, staring into the blackened abyss of decaffeinated sludge that held little appeal. She took a forced sip and tried not to grimace as the burnt taste entered her throat. Jack did the same and shared her sentiments on hospital coffee.

"You don't have to drink it you know..."

She looked at him and took another deliberate sip, glaring over the rim of his cup. He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his throat, and Sam was glad of the cover of Styrofoam hiding her forming smile.

"Sir..." her voice caught. "Jack... is this just another room we can leave it in?"

His eyes narrowed, unsure exactly what she wanted of him. "I can't see any other option." They'd already had the 'I could retire' talk, one night soon after the Za'tarc incident. They'd both agreed it wasn't a feasible option. Jack couldn't remember exactly why he agreed to her protests, but had filed away his letter of resignation for another fateful day.

 _Maybe I should just do it..._

"What do you want from me?" Her voice was raised, "do you want me to wait forever for a promise of 'maybe one day, if the world doesn't need saving anymore'? Seriously Jack, I know you can be self-centred but this is just ridiculous!"

Her words cut at him, as though she was deliberately trying rip his heart out to stomp it. "No I just... Jesus Sam, do you think this is easy for me? You know how I feel..."

Saying it out loud wasn't going to help the situation, despite the desperation in her eyes for him to just, for once, say those three damned words. "Do I? It's not like we've ever actually shared a heart to heart regarding the matter."

"So we could do _what_ exactly? Get it all out in the open in order to go back to work together, step through the gate side by side knowing it'd kill me to lose you?"

"What difference would that make to now? I do that every day."

Jack stood and started pacing. He did this whenever he was thinking, but failed to share his thoughts with the frustrated and immobile Major staring daggers into his back.

"I have to go." Without warning he placed the cup down the tray table and looked at her with as much sincerity as he could muster. "I will be back, don't go anywhere." The double meaning wasn't lost on Sam, as he walked from her room she let the pent up frustration fall in the form of tears, streaming silently down her cheeks. She closed her eyes and focused on everything she could feel besides her sadness. It was the first time she noticed the dull ache from the painkillers wearing off and her ankle began to throb. She should've called Janet back to get something more for it but sat silently, her head back, eyes closed, and tears forcing their way to the ground.

 _9 point 80665_

She repeated the acceleration of gravity on Earth's surface pointlessly in her head until nothing else was around and she felt her body sinking into an uneasy slumber.

* * *

"Sir. Do you have a moment?"

The General waved the Colonel in, hitting save on the document he was working on before closing his laptop. "I always have a moment for you, Jack. Take a seat." The Colonel obliged. "What can I do for you?"

 _May as well just spit it out..._

"I want to hand you my notice of resignation, sir. I want to retire."

Jack had expected a lot of different reactions from his CO, but the look of empathy wasn't one of them.

"I understand, Jack... but I can't let you do that."

Jack was shocked. "Are you kidding me?" He paused before adding "sir," to the end of his incredulous outburst. "I have to leave, sir. I don't want to keep up this facade. I care about her, much more than I'm supposed to, and I want to act on it."

General Hammond intervened. "As much as it sometimes pains me to admit it, this program would suffer greatly if you were to leave; the President and I are in agreement on this matter -"

Jack felt a heat of anger and despair rising in his chest. "I'm sorry sir, but what I'm hearing right now is that the USAF is more than happy to let me risk life and limb to save earth, but not to let me _finally_ be happy. I know it was supposed to be a suicide mission in the first place, and I know I was never supposed to find happiness in... in... anyone." He couldn't bring himself to say her name and drag her under with him.

The General sat patiently while he ranted. He'd known this was coming for a long while; he'd discussed the hypothetical with the President on a rare occasion he had to speak off record. A trip to DC had afforded him the privacy of the oval office to discuss his two top officers.

"Are you done?" Hammond asked patiently once Jack had finished.

"Sorry, sir. You know I have the utmost respect for you, and you know I adore the Air Force, and this program. It's just..." Jack paused and observed his CO for a moment. "Sir, why are you smiling? This really isn't a smiling matter to me."

"Sorry Jack, I was just thinking about how your impatience has a tendency to cause delay in receiving what you want. If you'd just have let me finish..." Hammond took a breath and made sure his subordinate officer was listening and not about to interrupt again. "As we just established, you are an impatient man, it's not like you wait for something you truly desire... I had known for quite some time before the Tok'ra testing that you harboured deep emotions for our esteemed Major. It soon became obvious that the feeling was reciprocated. I watched your team closely, Jack. How could I not? The flagship team is the face of Stargate Command. I scrutinised your team, and particularly the interaction you had with Major Carter. I was unsurprised to see admiration turn to adoration, and yet during that time you both refused to allow it to interfere with your work. If anything, it strengthened your team. The President tends to agree with me, though with perhaps less enthusiasm, that at no point has your bond with Major Carter negatively impacted your work, nor do we believe that Major Carter has received any special treatment whilst under your command. She has followed orders to the best of her ability, and you... for as much can be expected of you... have done the same."

"This is all _incredibly_ flattering, sir. But what _exactly_ are you saying?"

"I am saying that when I met with the President a few months ago, we agreed that with quite a few strings attached, the President is willing to overlook the fraternisation regulations in the case of yourself and Major Carter."

"A few _months_ ago, sir?"

Hammond nodded. "Just after the Za'tarc incident, yes."

"You're telling me, that I could've had this months ago? Why didn't you tell me?"

"One of the strings. One or both of you had to ask. We couldn't just go about and tell you that you were allowed to be together and have it influence a decision."

"What are the _other_ strings?"

"Three major ones. First, if at any point a personal relationship between yourself and Major Carter puts risk to yourselves, this base, or for that matter, Earth, there will be no warnings. Second, you need to be aware that this is the Presidents final term in office. A change in leadership could mean a change in this agreement. The last one... You will have no say in any further promotions Major Carter receives whilst you're both members of SG-1."

"It all seems... very fair, sir." Jack was gobsmacked, he hadn't quite managed to process what his CO was telling him.

"More than fair, Jack. You and your team are invaluable to Earths continued safety, and have on more than one occasion earned a bit of leniency. There was one more thing though. It's not so much a string as it is a warning. Senator Kinsey and the NID watch this program and all that happens within and outside it. Discretion is key, and I'd advise you to take that discretion with you should you pursue a relationship. If there's opportunity to use the two of you and your actions against this command, we should assume they'll take it."

"Don't go about flaunting it, sir?"

"Exactly." Hammond concluded his lecture. "SG-1 are on enforced leave for a week starting today while Major Carter recovers enough to return to base. After that, you'll perform only missions that can be done without her expertise until she's clear to return to active duty."

"Leave and then light duty, sir. Got it."

"I suggest you take some of that time to complete some well overdue paperwork, Colonel. Now get out of my office and make sure the Major has a way home." Jack stood to leave. "Oh, and Jack... take care of her."

He afforded the General a smile. "Yes, sir."

* * *

 **AN - A good guy General Hammond. Gotta love 'im.**

 **This story has officially become significantly longer than I'd anticipated. I thought it'd be over by the 6th chapter. Alas, the brain monkeys had other plans.**

 **Reviews are nice x**


	8. 2130

**2130**

Carter had been woken an hour ago by Janet's hand on her shoulder, announcing they were ready to fit her boot and get her on crutches. The entire process was more painful than she'd expected, and by the end of it Janet had taken it upon herself to administer a small dose to take the edge off. After an assisted trip to the bathroom and a helpful hand changing into her own shirt and a pair of nurses scrub pants, Sam was packing her mobile phone and wallet back in her bag, readying herself for her imminent discharge. As she zipped her handbag in, the door pushed open to reveal a displeased Janet with a smirking Colonel by her side. "It's not my permission you need," she heard Janet snap in the form of a whisper at Jack as they entered the room.

Sam pretended to have heard nothing as Janet handed her the discharge papers and telling her where she needed to date and sign. Once she'd done so, Janet proceeded to offer Sam a lift back to the base.

The Colonel interrupted. "The General has ordered us off base for a week."

Sam's jaw dropped. "A _week_? I'm not an invalid, that place has elevators. Does he know that?"

"Oh yeah? And what are you going to do in a foothold situation? Hobble them to death? Club them with a crutch?"

A blush rose to her cheeks and Sam broke eye contact in favour of the blue floor. "If that's what it comes to, sir."

"While I have no doubt you can hold your own, unfortunately for you, General outranks Major, and you have your orders. So, am I giving you a lift home?"

"Is that an offer or an order, sir?"

"I'll make it an order if I have to, but I was hoping you'd say yes to an offer."

Sam looked at Janet, silently begging her to provide another option. Hell, make her stay overnight. Janet simply shrugged at her friend. "Well I have to head back to the base. I was supposed to be on shift today when I heard about you."

Sam groaned. "Fine." Sam threw her handbag at the Colonel. "Carry this." She stood with the support of her crutches and started hobble in a huff from the room.

"Call me if you need me," Janet called after her. Sam said nothing, but heard the footsteps of her CO following closely behind. Out in the collection area, Sam sat and waited while he collected the car. She refused his help to climb in, despite her fractured ankle and bruised wrist, she bit her lip through the pain as she managed to clip her belt over her shoulder and waist. After putting the crutches in the tray of the truck, the Colonel joined her in the cabin. Looking at the clocked she noticed it would normally be time for him to make a coffee offer. Instead of waiting for him to notice, she quipped "no coffee, Colonel?"

She saw his lips twitch to a half grin. "Doctors orders, but I did get you this." His left hand lifted from the wheel to retrieve a small takeaway container from behind his seat and pass it to her.

She peered through the clear lid. "Tiramisu?"

"Cake and coffee in one. Best of both worlds."

Sam suppressed a smile. She wasn't ready to be his friend again. She was still angry, though she wasn't entirely sure why. It wasn't as though anything had really changed between them, other than his trying to turn coffee into alcohol. The drove silently after that, the only sound the occasional click of his turn signal. Soon they were turning into her driveway.

"Let me help you get inside." It wasn't an offer, and Jack had already left the car, grabbed her crutches, and opened her door before she finished unbuckling herself from the seat. She took her crutches while he ran ahead, unlocking the front door with his spare key and turning the porch and entryway lights on. By the time she made it inside he had the kettle boiling and a teabag in a cup waiting to be doused. She shivered, her house was cold and empty from disuse. It was homely enough, but the problem was she wasn't home enough to justify installing central heating. The only heater she had was mounted to the wall in the lounge.

"You don't even have a fire place," the Colonel observed after seeing her poorly suppressed shivering.

"Ah, no. I don't actually spend a lot of time here. You know... base. Base quarters. Daniel's apartment... your place. I don't have a lot of time to be home alone."

The Colonel grimaced. He knew she didn't have much of a life outside of the SGC, but it only just struck him how much their lives revolved around each other and the rest of SG-1. "Well, this is shit, Carter. How are you supposed to rest up and relax while you freeze to death?"

"It's not really that bad, sir..." she muttered angrily.

"Well, I think it is. We're staying at mine." He poured water into her teacup and passed it to her gingerly as she sat on the couch.

"That is _entirely_ unnecessary. I will be just fine here." She had to admit though that the thought of a crackling fire and a warm inviting house sounded lovely.

"Orders. I'll go pack you a bag of overnight things."

Sam shot up with as much vigour as she could manage with her body aching. All she wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep, but she sure as hell wasn't going to let him go through her draws. "I'll do it. Get me the duffel bag from the hallway closet."

"So you're agreeing to come then?"

"You made it an order."

Jack grinned. They both knew he would never have the authority to order her to stay with him.

A duffel bag, discarded cup of tea later, and one hour later Sam found herself seated in front of the beginnings of a crackling fire with a Guinness in her hands.

"Drinking with a concussion, Carter. Tut tut."

"Ah... you gave me the beer, Sir. Besides, it's a very light concussion. I'd be more worried about the pain medication if I were you."

The Colonel rolled his eyes. "Speaking of, have you taken one yet?" he asked, referring to the two Oxycontin tablets Janet had provided her with to get her through the next two nights.

Carter shook her head negative as she took another sip of her beer, observing him closely. He looked nervous. "Nope. Figured I'd wait until I was ready to sleep."

"Good..." he drank half his beer in one sip, trying to get a little courage into him. Sam noticed and raised her eyebrow quizzically at him. "There's uh... something I wanted to talk about... with you..." The other half his beer entered his system and he effortlessly opened another one and cradled it. "I handed my resignation to General Hammond today..."

"Sir! You can't!" Her heart leapt. She knew what his retirement would mean for them, she couldn't deny she tingled at the possibility of finally... finally...

"Yeah... that's what he said too..."

Her heart dropped. "Oh."

"Apparently you and I are amazingly vital to the well-being of this fine planet. I yelled at him for a bit, thought he might dishonourably discharge me. Except he didn't, the bastard just sat there and smiled!"

Sam jumped at his words, he seemed happy but he was sitting here calling their General a bastard, only... it seemed he was saying it in jest. "Sir, I'm really confused."

Jack grinned, "that's got to be a first! Jack O'Neill confusing the brilliant Samantha Carter."

"Not a first," she muttered back.

"Okay, anyway. Sidetracked. He said he'd already talked to the President about us."

Sam spat some of her drink out accidently. "Oh, God. The President?! Are we going to be court martialled, sir? We didn't even do anything!"

"Carter, CARTER!" He grabbed her good hand and took the beer she was about to spill and put it on the coffee table. "Nothing like that. In fact... we have permission..."

"Permission?"

"Well, very, very, very conditional permission."

"Permission for _what_?"

"Us."

"Us?" she waved a finger between the two of them.

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Jack... it's just... what conditions?"

Jack continued to explain everything the General had told him, trying to gauge Sam's reaction as he talked. He'd expected excitement from her. Instead he was gauging dread. Once he'd finished explaining the ins and out of their potential for a semi-relationship he sat and waited for her to speak. A minute later and no word. "Sam?"

"It's... wow..." She was ecstatic, but she was terrified. It was everything she'd always wanted, keep SG-1 together, and get Jack instead of Colonel O'Neill. Only she wasn't sure she could do it. Their job required them to make decision no one could even dream of. It was entirely within the realms of their job that she'd have to be the one to end his life, if it came to it, and she wasn't entirely sure she could do it as is, let alone if they let this grow.

"I thought so..." Jack was discouraged; she could see it in his eyes.

"It's not a no, Jack. It's a..." Sam paused. What was she even trying to say to him? "It's a... I need to sleep and I need to think."

Jack stood from the couch and pulled the cushions off, pulling out what appeared to be a surprisingly comfortable sofa bed. He indicated for her to move over onto it as he put the cushions behind the couch and grabbed some pillows and a blanket from the nearby closet. He placed two behind her neck and another two under her damaged leg before draping the blanket over her. He hesitated as he reached her shoulders, before dropping a gentle kiss onto her forehead.

"Sleep! Think!" He passed her the TV remote before leaving the room, just in case.

 _God I hate how much she thinks..._ he thought to himself as he got himself ready to go outside. He wasn't tired. Not even slightly. The brisk cold of October air would do him some good.

 **AN: No one should ever let Carter thinks**


	9. 0030

**AN: So this is the last chapter. That said, I have a sequel brewing in my mind. If you're interested in that hit the "follow author" thing at the bottom.**

 **0030**

Sam woke just after midnight with a start. Her head was pounding and the room was hot. Too hot. She stood and observed the embers of the fire that had been fading as she'd fallen asleep. She estimated she'd been asleep maybe an hour, and was surprised to find the house dark. Groaning, she realised she needed to use the bathroom and proceeded to reach for her crutches, using them as leverage to get her out of bed. She saw Jack's bedroom door slightly ajar, and heard something that sounded somewhere between a grunt and a snore coming from the room. As quietly as possible she made her way to the guest bathroom. Fifteen minutes of brushing her hair with his comb and her teeth with the spare unused toothbrush she left here for no real reason a year or so ago, she felt more human than she had in the past half a day and realised she was far too awake now to go back to sleep again. It was one of the downsides of her job, her body was adjusted to functioning perfectly well on little to no sleep over periods of days. Unfortunately, this meant that in the base, with no natural light, she'd often accidentally stay awake for 36 hours at a time.

She did her best to muffle the clicks of the crutches as she made her way back to the kitchen, and flicked the kettle on. A reflection in the window made her jump before she realised the sleep deprived reflection was that of her CO.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"I wasn't asleep."

"Liar, I heard you snore."

"Okay, I wasn't asleep long."

"Sorry."

"Carter." His voice held warning; he didn't want to go twenty rounds of sorry with her. "Coffee?" He pointed to the boiling kettle.

"Too late, sir?"

"Oh no, I'm sure it's 0600 on some planet somewhere. I'll take an extra sugar with it though."

She let the coffee brew before pouring it into cups and adding sugar. Jack carried them to the couch, still laid as a bed, and stole one of her leg pillows to put behind his head as she sat gingerly next to him. He passed her coffee to her silently, not wanting to be the one to speak first.

They sat like that until the remains in his cup had turned cold before she spoke. "Do you honestly think you could do it, Jack? Could you leave me behind?"

Jack shuddered at the thought, though he'd already spent hours contemplating the matter. He already knew his answer, regardless of how it'd kill him to do so, he knew she'd never forgive him if he let his feeling for her take priority over their mission or let it risk the safety of Earth.

"I can't begin to describe how much I wish this wasn't a question I had to answer... but yes... I don't really like to think about it, but I know if the time came I'd do it. Partly because I know you'd do the same."

"I'm not so sure I could. I already have reservations about that ability, Jack. I don't know how I'd live with the knowledge that I'd given you up like that."

"Sam," he took her good hand in his and brushed over her knuckles. "You've shown me numerous times that you have the strength to make that choice. It's not about being ready to do whatever is necessary. It's about trying not to get into that situation in the first place. We've had to leave each other behind, Sam. What matters is that if I ever have to leave you behind, I fight to get you back."

His words were in earnest, and she could see the way his eyes darkened that he didn't like the conversation anymore than she did, despite its necessity. She shuffled closer to him and felt his body tense for a moment before lifting his arm around her. She laid her head on his shoulders and relished the feeling of familiar warmth. Simply lying there with him, her body begin to relax and exhaustion came over her.

"Wanna watch a movie?" His voice broke the silence of the moment.

"I can't guarantee my state of consciousness, but sure. What have you got?"

"The Simpsons?"

"That isn't a movie."

"Hmmph." He failed to suggest something else.

Sam sighed. She wasn't going to be awake long anyway. "Fine," her word was drawn out. He practically hopped from the sofa bed with excitement and it brought an irrepressible grin to her face.

She made it through the fast forward of VHS ads, and the introduction theme song before the warmth of her position nestled onto his chest began to take its toll. Her eyes slide shut and her last waking moments were filled with the rise and falls of his chest as he chuckled to a joke she didn't hear.

* * *

She woke with a start when a phone rang through the house, Jack was slower than her to acknowledge the intrusion but rolled stiffly from the sofa bed to answer a landline, a few gruff 'what's and 'why's later, he padded back to her. "Daniel's going off world."

"What? Why?" Her response was so similar to his it made him smile at a warmth he was letting grow inside him.

"Apparently there are some really awesome ruins that absolutely must be seen by his own eyes."

Sam rolled her eyes and nodded.

Jack groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. "I need a shower."

"Yeah, I hadn't really considered the logistics of showering yet."

Jack waved his hand dismissively. "I'll run you a bath."

She looked at him hesitantly. "I'm not sure I'll have any more luck getting in and out of a bath. I'll just hold my leg out of the shower."

He huffed and walked away; she heard the shower start running before she manoeuvred herself to a standing position and hobbled down the hall to the spare bathroom. Brushing her teeth made her feel almost human again. She was standing in the kitchen, staring pensively at a blank pantry by the time he made his way to find her.

"Shower's free, Major."

She made her way behind him to the steamy ensuite. He did have a spare shower, but it hadn't been used in months, and to be honest, it definitely needed a clean. He left her with a spare towel and let her carefully undress herself. She could hear him opening dresser drawers in the adjoining bedroom before she was ready to tackle the task of actually showering. With the water running, she moved as much of her body under the stream as she could without losing balance. Grabbing the soap holder with one hand, she steadied herself as she let the hot water wash over her. His body wash smelt spicy, and it made her tingle and she cleaned herself.

Half an hour later she'd managed to dry and dress herself, only needing Jack's help once to slip her booted leg into a new clean pair of sweatpants he'd dug out for her and poked through the door of the bathroom. When she'd seen his hand poke around the door she couldn't help but giggle at his awkwardness at the potential of seeing her naked. He'd avoided looking anywhere but her lower leg as he helped her with her pants, and she knew she needed to throw him a bone.

They were seated on the freshly made sofa, with no evidence that it had been a bed except the blanket folded neatly on the arm.

"I'd do it if I had to..." she said out of nowhere. A lack of comprehension from him prompted her to continue. "If I had to say goodbye to you, I would if I had to."

He looked sad. "I wish we didn't have to..."

"But we do, if we want to do this whole 'us' thing."

"You mean..."

"Yes."

He didn't hesitate this time, he put his coffee down and closed the space between them in an instant. His hand was on her cheek and he was soaking up the blue of her eyes. Her good hand touched his and she smiled. That was the rest of the confirmation he needed and he closed the inch more between them so his lips brushed softly against hers before deepening the kiss.

She sighed with contentment. She'd wanted this moment for years, imagined it over and over, with as many scenarios and she could imagine (which was quite a few) and yet not one came close to the perfection of the act.

"We'll figure it out." He said softly against her lips as he pulled away slightly in order to hold her whole body closer.

"We always do." She replied with a gently smile and closed her eyes.

They'd spent enough time avoiding the truth that the truth with a lot of strings attached was good enough for her, for now. Not perfect, but enough.

 **AN:** **I hope you've enjoyed this drabble of mine. Thanks for reading! I'll go get a start on that sequel (which by the way will be *significantly* more angsty. Seasons 7 and 8 don't allow for Jack in Sam's life so I'll focus on what causes that. xx**


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